


Coping... Or Not [13.11 coda]

by unforgvnsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cage Trauma, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Episode: s13e11 Breakdown, Gen, Mentioned Castiel - Freeform, Mentioned Jack Kline, Mentioned Mary Winchester - Freeform, Sam Winchester Has an Eating Disorder, Sam Winchester and Food, Sam Winchester and Mental Health Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, is trying to anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 17:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13486662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unforgvnsam/pseuds/unforgvnsam
Summary: The torture and the blood of their last case brings back Cage memories for Sam, which just adds to everything else happening recently.





	Coping... Or Not [13.11 coda]

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this out last night and posted it at like 5:30 so it's short, messy, and meh, but i'm mostly happy i finally wrote something again! feedback appreciated, loves. xxx   
> [read on tumblr](http://unforgvnsam.tumblr.com/post/170147983180/1311-coda-coping-warnings-in-the-tags-sam)

Sam opens his eyes, not sitting up but breathing hard. There’s cold sweat on his neck and back and the blankets are too warm and he feels suffocated and claustrophobic. He shoves the sheets away and breathes in deeply, trying to calm himself down, telling himself that he’s okay, nothing’s wrong, he’s safe.

Lucifer isn’t here. Sam isn’t in Hell.

Sometimes he feels better. His nightmares aren’t too bad and he sleeps well.

But now, with everything that’s been happening… Mom’s still stuck in the alternate universe. Jack is MIA, probably—  _hopefully_  with Mom now. And maybe that should be comforting, but it’s not. It just reminds Sam how wrong everything is. Just like everything else in his life. He wishes Cas was here at least, but he’s gone too.

It’s just all too overwhelming. Especially with their last job just a few days ago. The whole hunt had made him feel terrible. He can still remember the feeling of the restraints against his chest and around his wrists and ankles. The blood on the walls and the gunshot. He shudders and closes his eyes for a moment just thinking about it.

He hates how much it reminds him of the Cage. There’d been so many times that Lucifer had done the exact same thing to Sam. Except that Dean hadn’t shown up and shot Lucifer. It’d happened. Again and again and again. Over and over. It never ended. Every time Sam thought it was over, that he could have a break, that he should  _finally_  die, Lucifer would start again until he got tired of that for the moment and moved on to another… activity.

Sam is tired. He’s tired of feeling panicked. He’s tired of being worried. He’s tired of pretending to be okay for Dean’s sake. He’s tired of being tired. But he’s not sure he likes falling asleep either. It was almost better when he  _wasn’t_  sleeping before the case.

He gets up, refusing to fall asleep again right now. Because falling asleep will just lead back to waking up in a panic and that’s more exhausting than being awake. He rubs his chest where the leather strap had held him down, his shirt damp with sweat. It feels uncomfortable and just makes him feel worse and he pulls it off, not caring that he just drops it on the floor. He finds another shirt before opening his door quietly.

The last thing he needs right now is for Dean to come over and make sure he’s okay because both of them would know he’s not.

He makes his way to the kitchen. It’s dark in there and he flips the light on as soon as he can because the pots and pans hanging off the metal island creep him out and the sound the old refrigerator makes is the farthest thing from comforting. 

It seems stupid that these small things make him nervous on nights like these. Like a kid being scared of the dark and of the shadows in the curtains and the sound the tree branches make outside. It seems stupid but whenever Sam starts thinking that, he has to remind himself that it’s not. He has a  _reason_  for it. It seems stupid but those kids also have reasons for being scared of the dark. But the logical side of his brain doesn’t always win the argument in his head which leads to him hating himself for the fear.

He rubs his face, pushing his hair away from his eyes, giving the utensils a weary look. Sometimes they move a little because of the drafty bunker and the quiet creaking noise is nerve wracking. He decides to look away from the suspended pots and glances at the table. 

There’s a plate with a few pieces of bacon and some scrambled eggs on it and two fun-sized snicker bars next to that. Sam smiles tiredly, knowing that Dean left it all for him. The pot of coffee is still on the table too with a half empty cup next to it and Sam sits down on one of the stools.

The eggs looks cold and disgusting to Sam but he forces himself to take a bite for Dean’s sake, trying not to gag. He hasn’t eaten since last night and even then it was just half a grilled cheese sandwich that he’d choked down because Dean was in the kitchen.

The mouthful of egg isn’t as gross as he’d expected but Sam still doesn’t want to eat. He picks up a slice of bacon but looks at it too long and suddenly feels nauseated when he remembers the pig mask. He drops it immediately and closes his eyes again, covering his mouth with his hand, willing the wave of nausea away.

He gulps the coffee down instead even though it’s bitter and stands up again, grabbing one of the snickers and walking to the library to do the only thing he can do right now. Research. He needs to find another way into the alternate universe. He  _has_  too. But all the research of the last few days and weeks hasn’t led very far.

It’s better than sleep though.


End file.
